Hourglass
by White Osprey
Summary: Set one year after FFIX. Zorn and Thorn revive Black Waltz 3, who, predictably, rebels. He is still haunted by the desire and goal to find the "Princess", however. He revives Black Waltz 1 and together they start a beautifully amusing little adventure.
1. Rebirth

He felt the sensation of being thrown. He tried to regain control. Tried to spread those wings, feeling only burning pain and confusion as he realized he couldn't. He had lost the abilty to speak and now the ability to survive. The earth hurtled closer. He closed his eyes. He was given the peace of hearing one thundering crack before the black consumed his vision.

Sounds clouded his mind. Every other sense was lost. He groped in the darkness, weakly twitching as his body leaked out the last of its energy. He did not know how long he lay there, memories floating in and out of his broken mind. Every sound seemed aplified. The singing of the birds became screetching, the dance of the flames became the atonal beat to some horrific symphony. Yet one thing arose above the cacophony; the voice. That twisted, scracthy voice that penetrated his mind. It pulsed and pounded like a headache, giving him images of teeth gnashing in the black. "_You exist only to kill. Get the fuck up. You exist only to kill."_

He struggled to stand, his body refused. He could not obay that one sole command that so consumed him. A sound suddenly absolved the rest in white, the screetch. Make it stop! Make it end! No! No! No more! It stopped, everything stopped. The voice even rested. All his senses where lying in wait, looking towards what had just occured like a frightened animal, unsure as to what to do.

Then she saved him. Her voice. Her sweet, sweet voice. His soul calmed, and he became complete. He left his mindless body behind, and soared. Then it broke. The chain snapped and his wings could no longer carry him, he was sent back to his broken body and his broken mind.

Stand! Kill them! Shards cut deeper. Let the blood flow. Fire! Fire! Let the fire go. Let them burn. Burning flesh? Ahaha, yes. Yessss. Look at her. Look at her fear. She wants to kill you, Three. She wants you to die. Slip away, never speak again. Die for her. Die for her and she'll be happy. Die! Die! You'll only kill her! You don't love her! You can't love! Gnashing teeth, animal's cry, the sky's burning! No! No! No! End it all! End it now! Turn that staff against yourself. Raise it high and bring it down! Smash it out! Smash me out! Kill me! Kill yourself! Die! Die! Die! You exist only to ki-

He awoke. The world was blurred and painful to look at due to the harsh light. He blinked a couple of times, becoming aware of words and images. He had dreamed, he didn't know what of. Shards had passed through the blank canvas, continously cutting into his vision and piercing his mind with an image should the shards come together. He didn't understand. Suddenly he felt a needle or something penetrate his back. He shurred, arching his back and tensing his fingers. He heard someone say something about "putting it in too early".

Suddenly, he realized who it was. Crying out in the sudden rage that consumed him, he turned on his oppressors. He knocked the one off his back, grabbing the litte red creatures neck and slamming him down on the floor. "**WHY?" **he screamed, the only word he could think of that summerised everything that he felt.

The claw slammed into Thorn's throat, thrusting all air from his lungs and pressing him hard against the wall. Zorn cried out in protest but was overrode by the Black Waltz's roar. Thorn's mind was turning hazy. Breathing would be really nice right now. The claw ripped him from the wall and threw him to the ground. This brief reprieve allowed Thorn to breath, yet again, he lay winded against the hardened mud of the plateau.

As Thorn attempted to rise to his feet Zorn stepped forwards.

"**We are responsible for your rebirth!" **came his angered cry.

"**Resp ... we ..." **rasped Thorn slowly.

Zorn gave Thorn a bemused look and pressed a finger to the jesters red-tinted lips. Continuing his rant, he spoke again.

"**As your effective makers and masters, We demand you be silent and be still!"**

Sensing he was getting nowhere with words, Zorn raised his arms into the air, glowing veins spread across them forming a spring of light at his finger-tips.

"**Thorn**," he grinned, "**Flare power**."

The light cast towards Thorn in a magnificent beam, wrapping around him like a glinting spiderweb. Thorn's hands now began to glow with a malicious crimson fire. His arm raised weakly into the air and fell to directly face the Black Waltz, causing one of his shoulder's to begin smoldering in a way that could be really, really irritating if

you let it burn for a little while.

**"Rebirth? Makers? MASTERS?"** he laughed, wings beating as he felt his full power rising and churning within him. Never had he felt so strong, never had he felt so capable of killing. Never had he felt such lust to destroy the two before him. He had always so longed for the taste of freedom, for the taste of mastership. He hated being on a leash, being a little attack dog for that foolish queen. That queen who had sent his brother and his sister to death, never changing her plans. "Find the princess, kill the others, bring her back," that was all that fat useless mouth had murmered too him. Those death words that had cut down his brother and had caused his sister to faulter.

He had not been suprised when one had fallen. Though he was perhaps the most intellegent of the three, he was patthetically weak, always hiding behind his precious Sealion. A complete an utter fool who could not see that the Sealion was his weakness, was probably the reason why he had died. Three would admit this too no one else, but uttered within his soul was pangs of sorrow when he heard that one was gone. He had been his only release, the only one with a mind set on self-satisafaction that he could communicate too.

When two had embraced death, he had been suprised. She had always been his rival, always been so close too his power. When they had trained he had always lost to her, it had only been recently that he arose over her. He had loathed her, treating her with the least respect. She was scum who remembered loyalties and clung onto weakness because of this. She would die for such loyalties, and no doubt would cling onto them with her last dying squeel. Gods how he had loathed her, the eternal taunting swelling of her chest, that hypnotic breath that had always said his own name in contempt. He had struck her so many times, and would have done so so many more had she not been dead.

Yet as both plans had failed, that whale-beast had uttered the same damned plan again, and again he was sentanced to death like his brother and sister. By the words Zorn and Thorn had chosen it was obvious that he had infact, died. He gripped his fist tightly, talons cutting into his own flesh as he felt the pangs of anger unfurl and absorb him.

Then he noticed he was burning, eyes narrowing as he watched the fire dance in contempt. **"What power.. Is this? Why have I not been shown this magic? It is not like humans such as yourselves would be able to contain the sheer power that only a Black Waltz would be able to do! Show me**!" he demanded, flinging his hand out as he slapped the air.

The Flare was truly starting to pick up now, making his shoulder tense and burn with all kinds of alliments. He ignored the pain, far more fixated in destroying the innocelent jesters before him.

"**You call this fire?!"**

He lowered himself, lifting the battered staff from the ground, holding it high above him. Waving it lightly, he brought it down with force, pointing it at the two jesters as the flames licked around the edge of the staff. In the center a white hot glowing orb formed. Dragon heads seemed to form as the Fira built up, before it was finally unleashed from the staff, twisting around the two jesters like a tornado, the flames snapping at their heels.

Thorn still struggled to breath properly and the ash in the air wasn't helping. Zorn gazed pitifully at his counterpart but his expression quickly changed to shock as the flames began to converge, drawing to the centre in a massive conflagration.

Seeing the look of panic on Thorn's face, he shielded him with his body, taking most of the pyroclasm upon himself.

The flames dispersed leaving the two charred jesters standing shakily. Thorn, a look of fear on his face, Zorn a look of anger. The Black Waltz was powerful. Maybe too much so for the two of them. But each was determined to prevent the other being hurt.

"**Far from human, we are**," Thorn spoke. A look of rage crossed his face for the first time in a long time.

"Do it properly this time, Thorn," the blue jester said, a mixture of mockery and malice on his lips.

Their palms touched and power coursed through both of them. Once more, Thorn pointed to the Black Waltz, this time with energy. Crimson flames sprung up around the Waltz, holding him in place with its terrible heat. At the same time, Zorn pointed to the sky. Clouds parted to make way for the gigantic object falling to the earth and a shadow began to expand at the feet of the Winged Demon. A thunderous crunching sounded as the meteor came closer and closer. Thorn grinned viciously as impact became imminent.

He had no time too move as it smashed against him, sending him falling to the earth, crushed under the sheer destructive might of the firey ball. He felt his stitches break, stuffing falling out. Feasthers scattered everywhere as he took critical damage, his back arching as he struggled to stand. Images filled his mind of her. Filled his mind of her soft body pressed against his as he forced his way in. The tears and the blood only to end in the final gurgling kill scream.

He forced his way up, knowing he could not win this fight, no matter how strong his power was. He submitted, if only for a little while. He allowed himself to drift into thought as he planned revenge. Wings fluttered as the flames still licked his body.

He collapsed too his knees, taking heavy breaths as he bowed towards the other two, sacrificing pride for the sake of his life.

Three remembered the reason why he was fighting. He was fighting for her. Oh how could his lust be this great, how could it bring himself so close to his knees. How could this desire for her, this desire to be free, be so unbound and so great now. Why was he born with this black heart? This malicious and malignent desire to rip, to shread, to kill?

Why did he long for her so? He imagined she would whine like two would, little starled cries that would only encourage him to continue. Little whimpers of fear, pleading between the tears. Yet still those hot breaths would spill out, still her lips would speak of desire. Though her body may convulse in rejection, her fingers grabbing onto his feathers and her nails scratching across his chest, he knew the pleasure in those cries. He could smell it off of two as he wiped her satisfaction off her precious little face. Wiped off that superiority that she had once had over him. So too would he do the same to the little princess, only with her he would do something he reseved only for those he so loved.

He would slit that little whining throat wide open, squeeze out her accursaid singing. The pain upon her face would contrast the smile upon her throat that would be red raw.

**"I.. Conceed" **he said bitterly. "**But such... Power. Let it become mine, let it be so I may destroy all those within your way... Tell me where the Princess is... I will return her too you**"

He lied.

Thorn began to ready a second flare spell, with Zorn's help. As the dust from the impact cleared, the jesters has a clear view of the Winged Demon ... on his knees? He had surrendered. The super-powered killing machine, Kuja's masterpiece of black mage construction, had surrendered. Perhaps he was not too powerful after all. Zorn glanced questioningly to Thorn who pulled him away and began to whisper.

"**Unusual action for a Black Waltz this is."**

"**Indeed it is unusual. Shall we accept his help? He may turn out to be useful."**

Considering the events so far, his answer would have to be no. After reviving the Waltz, he decided to try to kill them. Now he is obviously trying to trick them. Surely nothing that 'EXISTS TO KILL,' would surrender so easily? Then again, he never said he existed to die. Making his mind up, he whispered quietly to his brother.

"**An interesting plan, I have**."

Zorn raised an eyebrow.

"**If, to claim from the castle what is ours, we are. A distraction we may need."**

Zorn grinned for a moment then replied, eyes widened slightly.

"**And his other request, Thorn? Do we really give him such power we have developed over so long?"**

A difficult question. It was unlikely the Waltz would accompany them unless they were to give him their power. However, meteorite and light flare were complicated and destructive spells. Giving them to one who could easily betray them would not be wise.

"**Perhaps too, to trick him, we are," **he smirked.

Before waiting for Zorn's reply, he turned to the crippled Waltz.

"**Fix you again, we must. But then, accompany us you can. Once we find the princess, yours, will be our magical secret**."

After handing the needle and thread to Zorn, he began to gather up all the spilled stuffing, cog-wheels and other internal ... organs ... placing them back into the Waltz. The jesters began to stitch, uncaring of how much it pained the creature.

"**Ah, brother. We are foolish**," Zorn stated after several minutes.

"**Foolish, we are, Zorn**", Thorn agreed with a look of exasperation for himself.

Three chose not too speak, only inching closer so the jesters could repair him. Sitting down, he sighed, bowing his head. His eyes narrowed in contempt as he felt the needles threading through him. He glanced disintrestedly as they pushed his stuffing back in, twitching in pain every now and then.

He had wished they had had the curtosy as to shut off his nervous system, but he permitted the pain. Closing his eyes and twitching every now and then as a needle proded a particullarly sensitive area, he remembered that it was all worth it. Tightening a fist, he allowed himself to relax.

For the second time, the jesters began to leap up and down, chanting. the Black Waltz once more was repaired.

"In need of the key, are you?" Thorn cocked his head at the Black Waltz. Should he reject their offer, the jesters could be in for another fight. Feeling his legs still shaking and seeing Zorn swaying a little where he stood, Thorn hoped it would not come to that.

He watched silently as the two Jesters talked, choosing too ignore them. Let them contemplate, he would still suck them dry and use them for all they where worth before abondoning them. He examinded his damages, running his talons through his precious wings. Preening himself, he brushed the dust and debris away, desprete to look presentable again.

He let himself drift upwards into the air, enjoying the feeling of flying as he looked down upon the two. Listening too their plans, he simply nodded.

"**She will be returned with ease. The mistakes I made last time shall not be repeated. I exist to kill and all that**," he hissed, looking upwards. Allowing his wings to warm up for a few more moments, he pushed himself forewards, rising with the air currents as he soared before the castle looming in the distance.


	2. Heart of Ice

The cavern was crumbelling, bits of rock falling everwhere. He glared, not desiring getting broken again. He knew there would be no jesters with bits of thread to stitch his wings back into place again. Lifting his staff, he felt his hands chill as he focused on the spell. Ice shot forwards as he mustered the most powerful spell he could, the blizzaga coating the room in snow.

The caverns rocks shuddered into place as a blizzard shot like a bullet (from hell) through the cavern, its cloak streaming out and blanketing the cave. With the ice came the cold, seemingly emitting from the sharp needle like structures cutting through the earth.

The waltz floated along the cavern for a few moments before being forced to land. He shuddered in the cold, ice already forming from the sweat on his wings. He hunched over slighty, trying to gain warmth from his body as he squeezed through the cavern.

Finally he came to the main chamber, witnessing the prize he had came to recieve. A giant skeleton lay curled up upon the rocks, forming the shape of some snake-bird by the looks of it. Yet, curled up within the center of it, a figure.

Three cocked his head lightly, feeling pangs of sorrow as he saw his "brother" lying defeated in the snow. His brothers wings were ripped, but not too badly. Wind ran through them, causing the feathers to dance to some unknown music. Beside his body, gleaming in the snow, a bell. Three lifted the golden bell and it chimed weakly in resolve. Despite all the elements that had ravaged it, it still managed to emit a sound, happy to be found.

Three slipped it into a pocket, removing the key. Parting the feathers on One's back, and ripping open a little bit of his clothing, Three unveiled the key hole. Sliding it in, he began to twist it, excitement rising through him as his "brother" awoke.

"**Three? That you**?" he moaned, rolling to his feet. "**I miss anything? We found the princess yet?"**

His eyes wandered from Three's face across the cavern to rest upon the skeleton aside him. He convulsed in shock, his eyes widening in horror and pain. His beautiful sealion. Gone. Murdered by that monkey-tailed, motherfucker of a rogue that had made him too 'stop moving'. Tears began to pour down his (for want of a better word) face, getting caught in the vacuum that was his mouth and vanishing into the centre of his head. He let out a piercing howl.

**"THE ONLY THING I EVER LOVED! HAS BEEN TAKEN FROM ME!"**

He turned to Three with an anguished expression upon his charcoal face.

"**WHY DID YOU BRING ME BACK?! WHY DID YOU TAKE ME TO A WORLD WITHOUT MY SEALION?!"**

Dropping to his knees, he beat the ground with his fist screaming 'Why?!' His tears began to freeze along with the sleet he lay in. He leaped up, shattering the ice around him and rounded on the third Black Waltz, hysteria crippling his posture more than it already was. Grabbing his robes with both hands, he screamed once more.

"**You may think you brought me back to life, but I'm still DEAD! I'M DEAD!"**

Three had never seen One filled with such emotion. No, he had never seen anyone filled with such emotion. Sorrow was a weakness. A weakness almost as great as love. Yet love's weakness far surpassed it, causing children of Hate to become hysterical snivveling dogs like One had become. His eyes narrowed in contempt at One, letting him have his little fit over his sealion.

He had taken the bell at first to stop him summoning that horrible beast. He had hoped that One wouldn't be so badly hurt and forget about the Sealion, even though he knew it was in vain. He knew exactly how One would react, though he had underplayed it in his mind. He let a palm drift up to his face, knowing he would be doing this a lot.

He wanted to drown out that horrific shrill shrieking, wanted it to STOP. His wings opened in rage, slicing the cold air and twitching as he resisted killing his ally. He knew he needed One. He hated to admit it, but he would need aid. After the jesters had defeated him, he had to accept he was not as powerful as he once was. He had forgotten what true power was. Forgotten it and had become so weak. So pathetic. He would have too fight if he wished to achieve his final goal, and One would surely help him.

One could see Three's patience wearing very thin, but he was far too hysterical to care. However, when Three's wings snapped open, he knew he'd gone too far. Preparing for the coming pain, he tilted his head downwards. Three pushed One away, cold hands barely having any strength in them.

The shove send One tumbling backwards. He stopped himself from falling but stumbled a good distance, a look of shock on his face. It wasn't so much the push that surprised him. It was the fact that Three was being so obviously needed One for something. Any other day, and he'd get a face full of fira. He quelled his grief for Sealion for just a little while to hear Black Waltz Three out.

Calming, Three began to explain himself,**"N****o, in answer to your mindless question we have not found the Princess yet. It is your fault for not making your magic potent enough for four people. You must always over prepare or such situations. Stop Snivelling. Now."**

One sniffled hurt and confused, "**I don't see what you mean? What magic? What do you mean by potency? I just told that moogle to rohypnol them. It's not my fault that the monkey wasn't thirsty. And my preparation was flawless. I even ambushed him. Although, if I hadn't, maybe Sealion wouldn't have -"**

Three sighed. He waved his hand, pulling out the bell from his pocket. Shaking it he made it chime, feeling an affection for the noise. "**The little bastard runt of a mage had this. The monkey-tailed boy refused to let me have it and tossed it off the side of a cargo ship. I had to go through many trials to re-locate this. All I ask is your service and you may have it back**"

He knew One would have followed him anyway, but he wanted to make sure it got through his thick head.

Swiping the bell from Three's hand, One began to think about the offer. It would be fun, getting the old gang back together. But it would mean putting up with a lot of Three's joy-killing. Still, they were brothers at heart so he decided to accept.

"**Okay then, I will come with you. It'll be just like old times! Well I don't actually believe we had old times really. But we can make old times! Then in the future we can look back and say: 'Ah, remember the old times**?'"

Turning his attention back to the bell in his hand, he let a dominating chime echo throughout the caverns. A huge stalagmite of pure ice rose from the ground, shattering to reveal a frost-toned, winged serpent. A glowing, turquoise gem inlaid to its chest. A huge, fanged face turned to look at one with an expression of joy on its rough, reptilian features.

"**IT'S JUST NOT THE SAME!", **he cried out, despair made crystal clear.

"**Well actually," **he seemed to sober,"**It's pretty much exactly the same."**

Smiling, he threw himself onto the scaly creature, embracing it as best he could.

"**That is your problem, one. Your weakness is so obvious and yet you chose to ignore it. You rely far too heavily on others, One. Two is dead because of your mistake. The princess could not be retrieved because I had to go searching for your precious bell. Your preperation was flawed because you where defeated," **he uttered harshly. He shook his head, now fully blaming One for causing his horrific nightmares.

However, he was glad that the older Waltz would come with him. It was one step closer to his precious prize. His talons clicked together in anticipation as his neck ruff lowered and his wings folded. He allowed himself to calm now that One had stopped talking in all caps.

Looking towards the sealion, he raised his hand and brought a Fira down upon it, turning the gem on its belly red. Three shook his head, he should have been able to defeat it in one wave of his hand. All the same, it would at least give one the message: Stop being an overaffection lump and pay attention.

As flames licked around Sealion, charring its scales and causing it to whine in pain, a look of rage passed over One's face. He clenched his talons and formed a tacit incantation, directing it towards the Sealion. Crystalline shards flew towards it, the Blizzara spell healing its wounds. The gem at its heart returned to a healthy blue. Rising from its pained, hunched poise, it rounded on Three will a murderous expression. One quickly settled it with a ring of the bell before turning to Three.

"**If you ever hurt Sealion again, I won't hold back with the Blizzard spells**."

"**There will be no again if you do not stop showing your weakness towards that beast..." **he thought for a moment, contemplating his weakness. "**The only affections from a woman you have ever recieved has been from that beast. I have tamed the wildest being that we know, that bitch of a dog came crawling to me, begging for my touch. Two longed for my strength, my uncut, flawless beauty. She had to live with YOU for a year, wallowing in your weakned, uncouth, prensence. Do you understand? It is because I do not have that weakness that you consume your every day with."**

Tending carefully to his Sealion, One became vaguely aware of Three talking. Yeah. He did that a lot. What was he saying? Something about sex and his 'weakness'.

"**Stop calling it a weakness!**" he whined, for the first time tearing his attention away from his beautiful companion."**It functions fine the way it is. I assure you, it's only my spine that doesn't straighten. Besides, I swear I have never shown, or done anything else with it, in front of Sealion**!"

Three had a sick, twisted mind! Although at least his actions supported the fact. He didn't hide his perversion or malice. In fact, you could almost say he was honest.

"**And you're no better with women than I am, Three. You know fine well Two didn't want you. I was watching in HORROR as you raped her. I know you only exist to kill and all that, but there's a line, Three. There's a line**."

He returned the Sealion to its Poké-bell to save it from further injury at Three's vicious hands. He then held his worried gaze on the younger Waltz, awaiting his response.

Three shook his head, unfazed by the older Waltz's threats. He would use that sealion as practise later on. It didn't make sense that his Fira couldn't wipe it out, espically if that was its weakness. He clicked his talons together in dissapointment, making a rather rhythmical sound as he continued to snap his fingers, his mind thinking too the beat. Music had always helped him think, he suspected it was in his mechianical makings. With every turn of the cogs within him so did his talon click, making songs out of heartbeats.

He closed his eyes, quitely contemplating for a few moments, considering how he might grow stronger. Considering what he was going to do with this incompetent fool who bumbled along and his priorities in the wrong places. He knew they would have to retreat somewhere, have to hide somewhere. He was, however, a pretty cool guy. He could kill mages and not be afraid of anything, so long as he kept low and let the people forget. Forget... People where always forgetting. Forgiving and forgetting, weaknesses he chose not to have.

Focusing back into reality, he listened to what his companion had to say. Leaning his head to the side lightly, his eyes narrowed in boredom. Contempt seemed to strike across those amber orbs as he once again let a hand cover his face. He chose not to respond to One, letting him misunderstand. It would maybe be better not to go into details on whether the other Waltz could perform basic bodily functions or not.

It was, however, his second speech that caused Three's head to snap up from his hand. Eyes narrowed in rage as he opened an accusing mouth, **"What do you mean by she did not want me? Did you not see her heaving breasts, swollen with desire? Her sultry breaths as she whispered my name, dripping in sensuality? She called out to me in pleasure, One. I could hear it in her cracking voice as her talons tore against me. Perhaps you were too young. Perhaps you had never witnessed something like that and you where confused, One. I do not know what you mean by this... "Raped**"

He cocked his head lightly to the side, amber eyes focussing on the elder Waltz. The word hadn't escaped him. He knew it was a bad thing to be raped. Yet he did not know the meaning.

"**When I stuck my talon in her and she bled, she had an expression of utter ecstacy upon her face. Did you not see it? Did you not hear her screams of delight? The way her body collapsed weakly into mine as I tore off that dress to reveal those lustful..."**

He cut off, realizing he was ranting and that the other may not want to hear.

One stood in stunned silence. Too young? He'd seen sex performed many a time by Sealion. Not on himself of course. No, he had seen her perform sexual acts on that other tall, dark and handsome black waltz with the hunch and sty-lish potato suit jacket. However, this was not the only disturbing thing Three had said. Somehow, though Three was far younger and far more cruel, he was shocked by the ignorance and malice he was showing. Two's screams of pleasure ... It may have sounded that way to the ears of a mentally unstable sexual abuser, but when you thought about it logically, there's no way Two could be interested in Three while One was around. I mean, he was the obvious choice. He even had a Sealion. Women loved that right? Anyway, time to break the silence.

"**Much as I'd like to talk about rape for the next hour or so, shouldn't we be looking for the princess? Brahne's going to be a little annoyed if her ultimate weapons are just hangin' in the ice caves**.

Raising a talon to his face, Three contemplated the meaning of the word "Rape". It didn't make much sense, whatever it meant. The thing One had acused him of was clearly untrue, and whenever he raised that malevolent bitch from her eternal sleep, he would prove it. If she chose to deny it he would accuse her of being a liar. He did, however, listen to what One had to say. He hissed lightly in realization that the other was correct, that his lust was becoming far too distracting. He filled himself with anger, his neck ruff puffing out slightly as he loathed himself for being put in his place by the incompetent fool of a Waltz. He spat out in spite of himself,

"**Ultimate weapon. You forget that you are but a mere Prototype. The power you hold within you is so pathetically weak, One. The nerve you have to claim that you are an Ultimate weapon and putting yourself on par with myself proves your ignorance and your folly, **" he nodded to himself, letting his ruff lower as he cooled.

One rolled his eyes at Three's constant untrue and pompous ramblings. He didn't care. He was the oldest. He was the best. Would they really have given him such a sweet jacket if he hadn't been? Well it was a potato sack. Or something similar, but One assumed that was the style. He was then suddenly hit by a snowball. A snowball of realisation. The snowball sealion had just tossed at him made him understand that he was cold. He was hungry, bored of the scenery and wanted to leave.

"**What's the plan anyway? Where are we going?" **he muttered. This was more for the sake of idle conversation than for an actual answer. One couldn't care less about Brahne's plans. Or Three's for that matter. His only concern was to exact revenge on the monkey-tailed bastard that has injured his love so grievously. He wondered where the thief was. Wherever the princess was no doubt. Maybe in the neighboring village. Surely they can't have gone far in day or two he'd been unconscious. Three of course wouldn't let him steer away from their goal, being the dedicated minion he was. he'd only be interested in finding the princess. He'd have to be subtle in his revenge and convince Three that he was just as loyal.

"**Last I saw the girl and her company, they were on their way to Dali. I suggest we go there first and search for clues."**

Three clicked his talons together three times in succession to some unknown beat before answering.

"**They left Dali a long time ago, again showing your foolishness. Do not contribute such stuporous statements... But let us go anyway, that place has some significance for us." **His mind whirred as he searched for places to go, piecing together obvious plans. He glanced upwards, shivering lightly as the cold began to cut into him. He turned, walking away from the main cavern, indicating for One to follow.

He suddenly stopped, turning apprehensively towards One.

"**Did you dream**?" he asked out of fear, curious if One had felt and seen the same things he had seen.

One's heart stopped. Dreams? How could Three know about his dreams?

Did ... did Three know about his dreams?

Not as if they were wrong as such. I mean, it wasn't sexual. Not very sexual at any rate. It was just friendly if you thought about it. Very friendly. Sealion had been his loyal pet for a long time: it was only natural to expect that he would ... respect it. Even dream about it. And dreams don't always reflect desires anyway. I mean, how do you explain nightmares? But then again, when you have nightmares, you don't normally wake up with a ...

Well anyway, he had to respond fast or Three would be suspicious. Focusing all his mental energy on the lie, he began to speak.

"**Dreams? Uh, yeah. I had dreams. I was ... in this cavern. And it was all icey and it wasn't really that interesting to be honest. Sealion definately wasn't in them. Not that the dreams would have been more interesting if she was! You know what? Stop getting in the way of our duty**."

"**Nice save**," he grinned to himself as he headed down the icy trail towards the Dali entrance.


End file.
